Puslapio vaizdai
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Home of my fathers! - I have stood
Where Hudson rolled his lordly flood:
Seen sunrise rest and sunset fade
Along his frowning Palisade;
Looked down the Appalachian peak
On Juniata's silver streak;
Have seen along his valley gleam
The Mohawk's softly winding stream;
The level light of sunset shine
Through broad Potomac's hem of pine;
And autumn's rainbow-tinted banner
Hang lightly o'er the Susquehanna;
Yet wheresoe'er his step might be,
Thy wandering child looked back to thee!
Heard in his dreams thy river's sound
Of murmuring on its pebbly bound,
The unforgotten swell and roar
Of waves on thy familiar shore;
And saw, amidst the curtained gloom
And quiet of his lonely room,
Thy sunset scenes before him pass;
As, in Agrippa's magic glass,
The loved and lost arose to view,
Remembered groves in greenness grew,
Bathed still in childhood's morning dew,
Along whose bowers of beauty swept
Whatever Memory's mourners wept,

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Cape Ann, the name of Tragabizanda, in memory of his young and beautiful mistress of that name, who, while he was a captive at Constantinople, like Desdemona, loved him for the dangers he had passed.' (WHITTIER.)

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Leaf after leaf, dew-moist and bright,
And stainless in its holy white,

Unfolding like a morning flower:
A heart, which, like a fine-toned lute,
With every breath of feeling woke,
And, even when the tongue was mute,
From eye and lip in music spoke.

How thrills once more the lengthening chain

Of memory, at the thought of thee! Old hopes which long in dust have lain, Old dreams, come thronging back again, And boyhood lives again in me;

I feel its glow upon my cheek,

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1 It was not without thought and deliberation, that in 1888 he directed this poem to be placed at the head of his Poems Subjective and Reminiscent. He had never before publicly acknowledged how much of his heart was wrapped up in this delightful play of poetic fancy. The poem was written in 1841, and although the romance it embalms lies far back of this date, possibly there is a heart still beating which fully understands its meaning. The biographer can do no more than make this suggestion, which has the sanction of the poet's explicit word. To a friend who told him that Memories was her favorite poem, he said, 'I love it too; but I hardly knew whether to publish it, it was so personal and near my heart.' (Pickard's Life of Whittier, vol. i, p. 276.)

See also Pickard's Whittier-Land, pp. 66-67, and the poem My Playmate.'

2 Whittier was especially fond of these two opening stanzas. He had already used the lines to describe an ideal character in Moll Pitcher,' published in 1832, but not now included in his collected works.

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The school-boy's humble name has flown; | And bends above our heads the flowering

Thine, in the green and quiet ways

Of unobtrusive goodness known.

And wider yet in thought and deed Diverge our pathways, one in youth; Thine the Genevan's sternest creed, While answers to my spirit's need

The Derby dalesman's simple truth. For thee, the priestly rite and prayer, And holy day, and solemn psalm; For me, the silent reverence where My brethren gather, slow and calm.

Yet hath thy spirit left on me

An impress Time has worn not out, And something of myself in thee, A shadow from the past, I see,

Lingering, even yet, thy way about; Not wholly can the heart unlearn That lesson of its better hours, Not yet has Time's dull footstep worn To common dust that path of flowers.

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locust spray.

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1 In 1658 two young persons, son and daughter of Lawrence Southwick of Salem, who had himself been imprisoned and deprived of nearly all his property for having entertained Quakers at his house, were fined for non-attendance at church. They being unable to pay the fine, the General Court issued an order empowering The Treasurer of the County to sell the said persons to any of the English nation of Virginia or Barbadoes, to answer said fines.' An attempt was made to carry this order into execution, but no shipmaster was found willing to convey them to the West Indies. (WHITTIER

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'O weak, deluded maiden ! by crazy fancies led,

With wild and raving railers an evil path to tread;

To leave a wholesome worship, and teaching pure and sound,

And mate with maniac women, loosehaired and sackcloth bound,

'Mad scoffers of the priesthood, who mock at things divine,

Who rail against the pulpit, and holy bread and wine;

Sore from their cart-tail scourgings, and from the pillory lame,

Rejoicing in their wretchedness, and glorying in their shame.

And what a fate awaits thee! toiling slave,

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Dragging the slowly lengthening chain of bondage to the grave!

Think of thy woman's nature, subdued in hopeless thrall,

The easy prey of any, the scoff and scorn of all !'

Oh, ever as the Tempter spoke, and feeble Nature's fears

Wrung drop by drop the scalding flow of unavailing tears,

I wrestled down the evil thoughts, and strove in silent prayer,

To feel, O Helper of the weak! that Thou indeed wert there!

I thought of Paul and Silas, within Philippi's cell,

And how from Peter's sleeping limbs the prison shackles fell,

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Till I seemed to hear the trailing of an angel's robe of white,

And to feel a blessed presence invisible to sight.

Bless the Lord for all his mercies! - for the peace and love I felt,

Like dew of Hermon's holy hill, upon my spirit melt;

When Get behind me, Satan!' was the language of my heart, And I felt the Evil Tempter with all his doubts depart.

Slow broke the gray cold morning; again the sunshine fell,

Flecked with the shade of bar and grate within my lonely cell;

The hoar-frost melted on the wall, and upward from the street

Came careless laugh and idle word, and tread of passing feet.

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At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was open cast,

And slowly at the sheriff's side, up the long street I passed;

I heard the murmur round me, and felt, but dared not see,

How, from every door and window, the people gazed on me.

And doubt and fear fell on me, shame burned upon my cheek,

a sadly Swam earth and sky around me, my trembling limbs grew weak:

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Grim and silent stood the captains; and when again he cried,

'Speak out, my worthy seamen !' -no voice, no sign replied;

But I felt a hard hand press my own, and kind words met my ear,

Sat dark and haughty Endicott, the ruler God bless thee, and preserve thee, my

of the land.

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And poisoning with his evil words the ruler's ready ear,

gentle girl and dear!'

A weight seemed lifted from my heart, a pitying friend was nigh,

The priest leaned o'er his saddle, with laugh and scoff and jeer;

I felt

It stirred my soul, and from my lips the seal of silence broke,

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And

it in his hard, rough hand, and saw it in his eye;

when again the sheriff spoke, that voice, so kind to me,

Growled back its stormy answer like the roaring of the sea,

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